filled
by ilona belle
Summary: sometimes she just needs him to do this. fills for prompts from the 2012 kink meme on livejournal.
1. Chapter 1

Written for airbefore's kink meme on livejournal, winter 2012.

Prompt: **This photo** ( 25 dot media dot tumblr dot com/tumblr_melka3odIS1rmzel7o1_500 dot png)

* * *

"Oh fuck, oh _fuck_, Castle – "

Kate struggles against him, desperate, but he's got her pinned, his knees pressing her legs apart. Her wrists are trapped above her head, twisting under his grip as he wrestles her down. "Oh yeah, Kate. Yeah," he growls in her ear, his chest pressed against her back, the length of him heavy against her bare skin. She likes it when he's rough. He likes it when she fights back. She spends all day in control, and there are nights when she needs him to just push her down and _take_ her. Because sometimes they make love but sometimes she just wants him to fuck her from behind.

He grips her hips tightly and slides into her and she chokes out his name, her hands fisting in her pillow as she writhes against him. It's tight and thick and he's not gentle. Her back arches, the change of angle making her eyes roll back as she moans. He thrusts into her hard, filling her, hot and hard and so overwhelming she can't breathe. She digs her toes into the mattress, vaguely registering the raw animal noises escaping her throat as his fingers slide over her hip to draw tight circles over her clit

"_Castle_ – " she gasps, rolling her hips against him, taking him in deeper – "Castle _please_ – "

His fingers are pinching her nipples, his tongue tracing wetly at the shell of her earlobe, and oh fuck oh _fuck_ it's too much, too hot, he's so big draped over her and he's so massive _inside her_ and fuck fuck _fuuuuuck_ –

He drives into her again and again and _again_ and she breaks apart. Her orgasm rips through her as she muffles her screams in her pillow. His body goes rigid above her as he spills into her, filling her with hot spurts as he chants her name into her skin.

It takes her a long moment to realize he's rolled off. He's lying beside her, brushing her sweaty hair off her face. She smiles gently, nuzzling into his touch. "Hey there, stud."

"You okay?"

"Mmm. Yeah."

He rubs her back gently, lulling her closer to sleep. He wears her out. "Kate?"

"Mmm." She's tired and glowing and blissfully sated. Barely awake.

"Will you let me drive to the precinct tomorrow?"

She hums. "Not a chance."


	2. Chapter 2

prompt: Beckett with her hands tied behind her back; Castle in charge.

* * *

When she bit his ear and whispered _Let's do something fun tonight_, this wasn't exactly what she'd had in mind.

Kate's sitting on his bed. Blindfolded. Her hands are tied behind her back, one of his neckties knotted around her wrists. And he's kissing her.

It's long and deep and thorough, the kind of slow, sucking kisses that leave her aching and wet, lips and teeth and tongue, his hands cradling her face as he makes her head spin. Her fists are clenched, desperate to touch him, and she lets out a shaky sigh as his lips trace a line over her jaw and his hands slip under the silky, flimsy fabric of her nightgown.

"Castle – " she murmurs, her voice trailing off when his tongue hits the sensitive spot behind her ear and his hands cover her breasts, palming them, squeezing gently.

By the time he pulls his hands away she's dazed from his touch, hyperaware of him, her skin crawling, her nipples tight. She sways unsteadily, her balance off, and this is – unsettling, she's not used to feeling so helpless –

He lays her down, one hand cradling her neck carefully as he settles her onto the mattress. His lips brush hers briefly but then he's gone, and she has to bite her lip to stop herself from pleading _Come back_. But she's got no leverage, can't do anything but arch helplessly under him. She can't even touch him, her hands pinned under herself. She holds her breath.

There's a long moment, the swish of fabric – his shirt – that she hears hit the floor, and she's wondering what he's going to do when suddenly his mouth is on her skin. He plants slow, wet kisses on her thigh and she squirms under him, her breath coming fast and hard. He's smirking, she can tell, he's pleased with himself, but he doesn't stop, just soft open-mouthed kisses higher and higher and higher until he's tugging up the hem of her lacy little nightie.

And then his mouth is between her legs and she cannot _breathe_.

He's so good at this, so obscenely good. His tongue is slow and firm and relentless, teasing her with pressure _so close_ to where she really, really wants it. Her toes dig into the mattress, and she just needs to touch him, just push him where she needs him to be. But her bound hands are trapped under her back, arching her hips _just so_ and when he suddenly slides two fingers deep inside her she lets out a choking cry.

His fingers stroke inside her and he rolls his tongue over her and it's too much, the pressure coiling tight in her abdomen. She's moaning and writhing and pleading _please Castle please_, jerking uncontrollably under his agonizing ministrations.

He curls his fingers and swirls his tongue over her clit and then he _sucks_ and she falls apart, her whole body swept in an orgasm so fast and hard it's blinding.

He slows, eases her through the final waves of heat, and he finally reaches up to tug off her blindfold. She blinks, trying to calm her racing heart. He's grinning, wiping his mouth on the sheet, his blue eyes sparkling. "God, you are really the sexiest woman ever."

She huffs out a shaky laugh. "You always think flattery's gonna get you laid, Castle."

He grins cheekily, reaching behind her to untie her wrists. "Well, I _did _just get between your legs…"


	3. Chapter 3

prompt: beckett/castle. beckett walks in on castle masturbating and he doesn't notice she's there until after he's come (no relationship established).

set after the events of 2x18, Boom.

* * *

She's been living in his home for a week and it's not so bad.

For all the chaos she's seen, the Castle household is actually fairly normal at times. Castle cooks, they eat together as a family when Martha's not running out and Alexis doesn't have a meeting or study group, and - this she could get used to - he has a really nice laundry room, complete with steam press.

And Castle himself is the perfect host. He doesn't push. He's polite, but he seems to know she needs her space. She appreciates it.

One morning she wakes up a bit earlier than usual. She's about to take a shower when she remembers - laundry. Her towels are all in the laundry. But he'd mentioned, when she first started staying here (she is _not_ using the words "moved in"), that he kept extra towels in his bathroom.

It's early yet, and she's reasonably sure he's a sound sleeper, so she creeps downstairs and pads silently across the floor, through his office. When she taps gently at his bedroom door, there's no answer.

She taps one more time, just a bit louder, and this time she hears it, though faintly - "Kate?"

Oh. So he's - awake?

She twists the handle and slips inside his bedroom. She hasn't been in here. It's spacious, warm, rich. Faint light streams in through the curtains, illuminating the huge bed, and that's when she sees that it's empty.

The covers are thrown back, one pillow askew, so she can see he was just here. But - she heard -

"_Kate -_ "

His voice is coming from nearby, and without thinking, she follows it, across the polished floor. It's his bathroom, and the door's half-open, light spilling from it. Is he -

She takes another step, peers inside, and she can see -

Oh _shit_.

Shit.

Castle's standing inside the bathroom, and the door's blocking her vision part of the way, but she can clearly see that his dick is in his hand and he's jerking himself off.

He groans deep and ragged and her whole body goes hot. She can't move, can't look away, can only watch as he gives himself one last stroke and he comes hard, a shuddery breath escaping him.

Kate's face is burning, her skin hot, and she needs to leave but she just -

"Kate?"

She looks up to find him staring at her through the door. Oh god, no, _shit_ -

She slips out of his bedroom, bolting back up the stairs to her room, her heart pounding. She heard him say _Kate_. And he was -

She covers her face with her hands. She's not stupid. She knows exactly what he was just doing.

There's a knock at her door. "Beckett? Can I come in?"

She bites back a groan. It's not like they can avoid this. "Yes."

Castle steps inside, shutting the door behind him. His ears are red. He's not quite meeting her eyes. She can sympathize. "I, uh. I'm sorry - "

"Cas- I – I'm sorry, I didn't – I didn't – " There is absolutely no way to say _I'm sorry I walked in on you fantasizing about me_. "I was just looking for towels. I didn't know you were - " (_erect_) "- there," she finishes lamely.

"Oh." He seems - relieved at that, oddly, as if he's glad there's a logical explanation. "Well, I - I'm sorry. Can we get through this?"

"Of course." She just wants to forget it happened.

It never happened.

* * *

Lanie stares. "He was _what?"_

"Shhhhhhhh." Kate runs a hand through her hair self-consciously. "Would you let it go?"

"Absolutely not," Lanie huffs, folding her arms. They're in her office, ostensibly discussing autopsy results, but the results aren't ready yet, so it's this instead. "I mean, you two have shacked up so it makes sense - "

"_Lanie!_" Kate hisses, her face flushing hotly.

Lanie just grins. "Just tell me one thing. And I'll shut up, I swear."

Kate sighs. "Fine. What?"

"How big are we talking?"

Her face is burning. She doesn't say a word.

He's _big_.


	4. Chapter 4

prompt: Beckett/Castle, sex or foreplay in a public place but nobody notices (under blankets/in the backseat/etc)

* * *

Castle tugs surreptitiously at his bowtie until Beckett slaps his arm. "Stop fidgeting."

"It's tight."

"No, it's not. You just can't sit still."

He pouts but she just arches an eyebrow. He gives in with a sigh.

He's _bored_.

The third person is at the podium now, giving a speech that could simply be summed up with _Thank you for donating to our cause._ But this one dims the lights and starts a slideshow. Most of the other patrons are watching with rapt attention, the faces across the grand ballroom beaming. Castle's bored out of his mind.

He steals a glance at his companion. Kate puts on a good show - for all his experience in public settings, she absolutely outdoes him at composure - but he knows the signs. Her eyes are just a little glazed, her breathing slowed, her face impassive. She's bored too. She's just better at hiding it.

A grin curls over his face. They're both bored, right? Have to fix that.

Shifting slightly in his seat, he slips his hand under the tablecloth and slides it gently over her kneecap.

She flinches at the contact. "_Castle_," she hisses, low so no one else can hear it. No one turns; the others are their table are turned to face the projector. No one's watching them.

"What is it, Detective?" His voice is perfectly innocent as he rubs light circles into her skin, just under the hem of her skirt.

Her throat bobs as she swallows hard, and he can feel the subtle tensing of muscles under his fingertips. She knows exactly what he's going to do. But telling him to stop would be admitting it. And she seems to take it as a challenge to wait him out. Like she thinks she's _ever_ going to win the game of playing chicken.

He inches his fingers higher, biting back a smug grin as her breath catches. Her face is flushed, even in the dim light of the darkened ballroom, and she tries to glare at him but fails miserably. "Castle, we are in _public_," she whispers, but there's just enough air in her voice that he knows she's not really pissed.

"So be quiet."

Under the cover of the table, Castle chances it, sliding his hand further up her skirt. Her eyelashes flutter, her lips parting, and for a second he thinks he's going to push him away. But she bites her lip, taking a long breath, and _doesn't stop him_.

When his fingers hit lace instead of smooth skin, she actually squirms, her hands faltering, and he thinks okay _now_ she's going to stop him, she has to, there's no way she's going to let him -

And then Kate reaches under the table, grabs his wrist, and pushes his hand up.

He almost chokes because she's _wet_, her thighs pressing around his hand. He slips a finger under her underwear, stroking her lewdly. Kate presses her fingers to her lips, her eyes flickering shut, a deep flush spreading over her collarbone.

He slips one finger inside her slowly and watches as her face goes slack, that blissed-out look she gets in his bedroom, and _fuck_, this started out as a game, but now he's actually fingering her in the middle of a crowded ballroom, and if anyone catches them -

Before he can figure out what to do, she's pushing him away, scooting her chair back. The movement draws a few curious looks. "What - what are you - ?" he mumbles, confused.

She brushes her fingers over his neck, leaning in to ghost a kiss on his cheek. "I just have to go - take care of something."

He groans, wiping his fingers on a napkin at that as she strides out with a smirk, because he knows _exactly _what she's going to go do to herself. _Damn_ it. He's uncomfortable, he's tight in his tux pants, because right now he's picturing it way too clearly. She's getting herself off and he's not -

"Excuse me, Mr. Castle?"

Castle turns to find a waiter leaning over to address him quietly. "Uh. Yes?"

"Your companion is asking if you'll come join her. She says she'd like to go home now."

An idiot grin spreads over his face. "Yeah, actually. Thanks."

"Of course, sir. We've called your car for you."

Forget the presentation. Castle all but bolts for the front door, where Kate's pulling on her coat, twitching her eyebrow. "In a bit of a hurry, Castle?"

"Come on." He tucks her arm through his, ushering her out the front door. "Let's go home. So I can _give you a hand_. With that...situation."

She grins, nuzzling his ear. "Who says we have to get all the way _home_ first?"

* * *

They stumble out of the limo in front of his building. Her cheeks are even pinker. His pants are even tighter. And her underwear is in his pocket.


	5. Chapter 5

prompt: "My ex was here. I looked him in the eyes when I grabbed some other guy by the belt and dragged him into a room" (via textsfromcastle)

* * *

"Kate?"

Oh no. Come on. No.

Kate turns around, fingers curled around her champagne flute, and sure enough.

He's tan. His hair's longer. He looks good, healthy, like he's doing well.

"Josh."

It's a whirlwind of memories flaring up. The good times. The worse times. The long days in the hospital. Caring that turned into patronizing that turned into suffocating that turned into a one-way ticket to Haiti and a summer out of the city. It didn't end well.

"I, uh - didn't realize you'd be here."

"I came with someone," she shrugs. Speaking of - where _is_ Castle? He stepped aside to go talk to someone, promised he'd be back in a second. He left her at the bar in her short, tight dress with just enough alcohol that she's not quite as grounded as maybe she should be to be talking to her ex. Her hot ex.

"Oh." Josh leans on the bar, waving to the bartender for drinks. Oh no, no no. "Well. You look amazing, Kate. How have you been?"

This is not good. He needs to leave her alone. "I'm fine, Josh."

His eyes sweep over her, taking in the low neckline, her bare shoulders, the skirt that's just high enough that she suddenly feels uncomfortable. Castle likes this dress. Apparently Josh does too.

She needs to get out of this. "Look, it was nice to see you, but I need to go find my date. Later, Josh."

Kate snags her champagne and slips away before he can grab her hand. Time to find Castle. She needs the right man to be leering at her.

* * *

She's chatting with a few of Castle's fellow writers when she sees Josh again. Watching her. Trying to elbow his way into her group. She grits her teeth. It's _over_, it was over months before she told him to get out of her apartment, and she already said she was here with someone, so why the hell doesn't he -

She quickly excuses herself and finds Castle, who's talking to some other guys a few feet away. "Castle?" She sets a hand on his shoulder. "Sorry guys, can I steal him for a second?"

Ever obedient, Castle follows her, his fingers twining with hers as he crowds a little too close. They've both had just a little too much champagne, and he gets handsy when he's buzzed. "What is it? You wanna leave?"

She looks up, and sure enough, Josh is watching, his eyes narrowing. He's never liked Castle.

She wants him to see this.

She hooks two fingers in Castle's belt, ignoring the sharp gasp he pulls in, and drags him out of the ballroom and into a dark coat closet.

She shoves him back against the door with a little more force than necessary, latching her mouth onto his and shoving her hands down his pants.

"Kate - what are y-"

"Shut up," she hisses, pushing him again, his shoulders slamming against the door.

"I think maybe this is - "

"Shut _up_," she growls into his mouth, biting his lower lip as she gets her fingers inside his boxers and he groans, his hips bucking into her as she strokes him firmly.

He _finally_ gets the message and shuts up, pushing her skirt up, pinning her back against the wall. His hand slips between her legs and she chokes out a strangled noise. He chuckles. "A little eager, Detective?"

She bites his lip again and reaches for his belt, but he grabs her hands, stilling them. "Kate. _Kate_. We're not doing this."

"Castle, come on - just - " She grinds on his thigh, trying to pull him back, but he's not giving in, holding her wrists, fixing her with a keen gaze.

"Kate. We're not having sex in a closet because you're drunk and you saw your ex."

She blinks, her face getting hot, and she's squirming under his knowing look because he's right, she knows it, this is just a gut reaction, the lust and anger and _need_. She hates it. But he's right. She doesn't want Josh involved in their lives. Not like this.

He presses a gentle kiss to her lips, slow, soft, loving. She melts under him, giving in, letting him love her more quietly, his hands framing her face.

He pulls away, his eyes sparkling, and she can't help it. She tugs at his belt again, coy. "Are you _sure_ you don't want to?"

"Positive." He slides his hand over her ass and squeezes. "We are leaving _now_. We are going back to the loft. And we're going to have sex, on my couch, where you can be as loud as you want."

* * *

On their way out, they see Josh again. He catches her eyes, and Kate's ready to just walk past. But Castle tugs her arm. She looks up, confused -

- and out of nowhere Castle's kissing her, deep, his tongue teasing hers, his hands in her hair. Oh. _Oh._

He lets her go and she catches her breath, looking up at him, her blood racing through her veins. "What was that all about?"

Castle grins at her, curling his arm around her waist. "Figured you wanted him to see just how whipped I am."

* * *

Back at the loft, they manage to stumble inside and collapse onto the couch. It's too frantic, buzzing with a need so overpowering they don't even get their clothes off. She gets his tux pants unzipped and he tugs her underwear aside and she sinks down onto him with a wordless moan, her body stretching around him, hot and thick and tight and just _yes_.

When she finally comes, trembling violently, melting into the hot rush of him inside her, she slumps against his chest, spineless and warm and sated. It's always like this with him, it's always so _good_ and she'd secretly wondered if it would ever get dull but so far that's a no, and she wonders if maybe it's because they were desperately in love before he ever got her naked and screaming his name.

Kate feels the slow rumble as he takes a deep breath. "Well. That was a nice evening."

She laughs softly. "I didn't realize you liked fundraisers so much."

"Hey," he murmurs, turning her face towards his. "You okay? I didn't mean to be flippant. I didn't realize he'd be there."

"It's okay." She leans back into the broad warmth of his chest, absently drawing patterns over the soft fabric of his shirt. "I, uh. I got a little possessive."

"You did," he nods. "It was hot."

She nuzzles his jaw, pressing a soft kiss over the faint stubble. "Good. Because you're mine."

He tugs her up, sweeping her off her feet and into his arms before she can do more than yelp and clutch at him. "Then come on." He grins at her cheekily, carrying her into his bedroom and kicking the door shut. "Use me for my body, Detective. I don't mind."


	6. Chapter 6

prompt: Castle/Beckett - Hot, quick, and dirty in the backseat of her new police issued vehicle.

* * *

"What if someone sees the car rocking and -"

"Castle, shut _up_."

Her tongue in his mouth shuts him up as effectively as her words, and all he can do is grip her thighs tighter and grunt as she twists her hips, sinking onto him further. She moans into his mouth, her fingers fisted in his jacket, and she rocks into him, biting at his lip, clenching at him with her inner muscles, and he chokes. _Fuck_.

He's pretty sure this is bordering on illegal. But Scranton was a _long_ drive, and traffic was so bad, and is it really his fault he's trapped in this car with his smoking hot girlfriend? - and he got bored, so he got a little handsy, but it was absolutely her idea to pull the car over into an empty rest stop parking lot and shove him into the backseat.

And he has no idea how she managed to contort herself to get her pants down this fast in the backseat of her car, this shiny new blue car he likes so much. But he's more than happy about it. He groans, driving his hips up into her, drawing out that long high-pitched keening noise that means she's close. She's getting off on it, on _all_ of it, this really, really bad idea and the increasingly dangerous odds that someone will see them are so _hot_.

Castle grits his teeth and slips his fingers between them, drawing his thumb over just the perfect spot that gets her mewling, clawing at his back, and then one more time and she's finished, her body seizing up, tightening around him, and he grunts and spills into her, his hips jerking in release.

He has no idea how the NYPD switched her from that dull beige contraption to this lovely new machine, but he's happy with it.

"I'm convinced they meant for this to happen," he murmurs into her hair as she pants against him. "They got you a car with this much room in the backseat."

"Don't get used to it."

But she grins, and she kisses him, and even as they scramble back into their seats she can't stop smiling. She gets like this after good sex, her eyes dancing, the pink flush over her cheeks. She deftly tugs up her pants and re-does her belt, and for some reason he's utterly swamped by how unbearably beautiful she is.

She runs a hand over her tousled hair and merges the car back onto the highway like nothing just happened.

"You need to shower." He pauses. "I could help with that, you know."

Her lips quirk up, but she keeps her eyes on the road. "I know you can. You did this morning."

"Can we agree that this was possibly the best ever use of a police car?"

She twitches an eyebrow at him. "New car smell makes you hot, Castle?"

He just grins. Because it's not new anymore.

They've christened it.


	7. Chapter 7

crăciun fericit, everyone! (merry christmas to all my english-speaking friends)

* * *

prompt: sometimes Castle says dirty things in his sleep

* * *

"Mmmm. Kate. Yeah, oh yeah, Kate."

Kate blinks awake, dazed for a second – is Castle talking to her?

It takes her sleep-fogged brain a moment to process, but she suddenly realizes that in sleep, her hand slipped from his chest down. A lot down. Her hand is settled between his legs, fingers pressed lightly over the obvious bulge. He's restless, twitching, his hips drawing up into her hand. Heat floods her cheeks. He's openly grinding into her palm.

"Kate." He thrusts into her palm, his hand fisting in the loose cotton t-shirt she's wearing. Her fingers curl instinctively and he lets out a soft groan. "Fuck, _fuck_– " A wave of heat curls through her belly at his rough, sleep-drugged voice, low and husky. His hand finds her breast, curls around it, and she shivers.

Biting her lip, Kate lightens her touch, slipping her fingers up under his shirt to trace featherlight circles around his navel, feeling the hitch of his abs, the stutter in his breath. His body is tense, straining against her as she reaches down to palm his crotch again.

"Mmm, oh yeah. Oh fuck me," he growls, his voice dripping with sex. She cups him a little harder, relishing the pressure, sliding her middle finger in a tight circle over the tip of him through his boxers. "Oh fuck fuck _fuck_. Yeah. Oh, harder," he breathes.

She curls her hand around the length of him, straining now against the fabric of his boxers, and starts to pump him, slowly, slowly, teasing, enjoying the deep groan that rumbles through his chest –

Before she realizes it, his hips buck sharply and he comes in his pants, a chorus of _fuck fuck Kate_ escaping his lips.

He finally settles, his breathing deep, a faint smile turning up his mouth, his face slack and blissful.

Kate stifles a laugh, choking back the urge, pressing a light kiss to his shoulder and leaning to whisper into his ear.

"You shot too soon, Castle."


	8. Chapter 8

prompt: she thinks all day long about fucking him. as he leaves for the night, she gives him evidence of that to hold him over until she can be with him.

* * *

He needs to stop doing this.

Castle's wearing that shirt. The blue one, the one that makes his eyes absolutely piercing. And normally Kate can handle it; she spent four years keeping her hands off him, after all. But he's been gone for a week on a book tour, and when he walked into the precinct this morning in that blue shirt, smiling, that secretive smile he saves just for her, it took all her self-control to keep from pushing him into the supply closet and giving him a welcome home he'd really, really enjoy.

It's been a torturous day. A day of sitting across a desk from him, pretending to work, staring at the line of his jaw, thinking about straddling his lap and unbuttoning his shirt and sliding her hands under it. He looks good. He has no right to look this good. Not when the only relief she's gotten the entire week was the phone sex they had a few nights ago. She didn't mean to do it, but she missed him, and when he called late that night, his voice was so low and rough, and she was so tired and wound up that her filter just _vanished_. When he asked _What are you wearing_, she actually started describing her underwear. And then before she knew it, her fingers were between her legs and she was whimpering as he growled dirty words through the phone.

…and thinking about it right now is _not helping_.

He's smirking at her – oh dammit, her face is hot – and he's smug, like he knows, he knows exactly what she's remembering. He doesn't even have the decency to look uncomfortable; he's laughing at her, laughing, because she's sitting at her desk flushed and aroused and oh, fuck it. She's horny.

"You doing okay there, Detective? You look a little warm."

She glares at him and he just grins at her. He drums his fingers on her desk and that's even worse. Because he has big hands. Long, thick, strong fingers. And she's spent a week wanting them inside her because hers just aren't the same.

"It's five, Castle. Why don't you head home? Nothing going on here."

He can hear her subtext (_I'll leave early_) and nods. There's subtext in his grin, too. _We have a week to catch up on_. He stands up and heads for the elevator, and she bites her lip, looks down, and –

"Castle."

He pauses in the hallway, surprised, as she grabs his hand and yanks him into the closest empty observation room. Doesn't even flip on the lights.

She slams the lock behind her, flicks open the button of her pants and drags the zipper down, and shoves his hand between her legs, where she's soaked through her underwear.

Castle chokes, his fingers curling involuntarily, and she gasps, arching into him, fuck, fuck this is what she's been –

Voices outside. _Shit_.

She pushes him away, re-dressing herself hastily, her hands shaking more than they should. They slip out the door quickly.  
Neither says a word until he steps in the elevator, hands in his pockets, his ears still red. The doors are about to close.

"Castle?" She folds her arms over her chest. "I missed you."

The doors slide shut on his smile. A real smile. He understands this subtext, too.

She sits down against her desk with a deep breath. The ache between her legs is unbearable, the phantom pressure of his fingers only making it worse. Her skin is burning, her nipples puckered tight against her blouse.

She sighs, rubbing her forehead.

That backfired.


End file.
